


Sun Salutation

by aerys



Category: Love Victor (TV 2020)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, Swearing, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerys/pseuds/aerys
Summary: Victor is a stressed out high school teacher and Benji is his hot yoga instructor; they meet and sparks fly. But when Victor finds out Benji is engaged, will the dream of being with Benji remain a dream or become something more?(Venji Valentine's Day Fic w side Lia)
Relationships: Benjamin "Benji" Campbell & Victor Salazar, Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Derek (Love Victor), Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Victor Salazar, Mia Brooks/Lake Meriwether
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32
Collections: Venji Fic Fests: Valentine's Day 2021





	Sun Salutation

**Author's Note:**

> “Well… I know you said you’re done with dating, but… I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out on a date with me? Like, this Sunday?” Victor rambles.
> 
> Biting his lip and eyes lighting up, Benji stares at him for a moment, silent, before he clears his throat and finally speaks. “You know what’s going on this Sunday right? February 14th…?”
> 
> “Oh _shit_ , I forgot, it’s Valentine’s Day!” Victor says, smacking himself in the forehead. “Dammit.”
> 
> Benji laughs, resting a hand on his arm. “Relax. Um… I would actually love to,” he says, scratching the back of his head.
> 
> “Really? Oh, thank _goodness_. Whew,” Victor says, comically wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.
> 
> “What’s the plan, Romeo?” Benji asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans against the wall with a sly grin on his face.

On a particularly chilly mid December afternoon, after school has let out for the day, Victor makes his way over to the little strip mall parking lot in the middle of Atlanta, pulling into one of many open spaces as he sings along to the closing bars of “Yoga” by Janelle Monae. 

The semester is coming to a close, and Victor can’t escape the stress seeping through his bones, somehow even more forcefully than it had in years previous. His best friend, Mia, had been proactive when she gave him his Christmas present--an extremely generous gift of ten beginner’s yoga classes, because she had said: “You’re so tense, like a little clam”, which had hurt his feelings a bit more than it should have, mostly because she’d been 100% right. 

After a few sessions and some meditation, Victor had already begun to notice a huge improvement in his overall mood. Little things that his students would do in class, like texting each other and giggling over memes, which used to raise his blood pressure immediately, have become nothing more than minor distractions, and his new ultra-serene demeanor had intimidated his students enough for them to stop on their own accords and mutter about how weird he’s been lately. In reality, he’s never been calmer in his life. 

When the track ends, Victor kills the engine, reluctantly exiting his car and tugging his jacket closer around his shivering form. He continues humming along to the song, cursing himself internally because he _knows_ it’s going to be stuck in his head for the rest of the day, and opens the trunk to take out the mat from within.

Tucking his gear under his arm, Victor locks his car and proceeds through the door marked with a giant powder blue lotus on it, entering into the open space smelling of sandalwood and patchouli incense, where several people had already rolled out their mats on the shiny hardwood floor. The walls are a soft lavender and a row of large windows gives a pleasant view of a grove of cherry trees blackened by the winter which would be lively, pink and in full bloom in a matter of months.

Victor removes his jacket and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall before searching for a spot for himself among the sea of mostly women. He waves at some of the familiar faces--one of them a blonde young interior designer called Lake who always wears a full face of makeup and expensive designer clothes to class, who he’d ended up setting up on a date with Mia, and who had gladly accepted. When she smiles back at him, he walks over, setting his things down a few feet away from her and flattening out his mat. 

“Hey, Vic, how’ve you been lately?” Lake asks him as she tosses her blonde ponytail over her shoulder before she stretches her arms to the sides and twists to face him.

“Hey! I mean, if I’m being honest… I’ve been pretty good,” Victor says with a grin. “How ‘bout you?”

“Well, if you _must_ know, Mia and I have our second date this weekend, thanks to you,” Lake says proudly. 

“Oh, _wow_ ,” Victor says, feigning surprise.

“You’re a horrible liar, I know she already told you,” Lake says, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. 

“Sorry, I can’t help that my face does that,” Victor says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“Anyway… where the hell is the instructor? She better show up soon before I go full Karen on her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here any minute…”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, in walks a guy with the softest looking, most perfectly coiffed brown hair and the prettiest, most angelic looking face that Victor had ever seen. The earth stops its rotation immediately, inertia almost knocking him aside, but Victor doesn’t notice; he’s too busy gaping, pupils traveling down broad, bare shoulders to muscular chest to tiny waist unfortunately covered by the fabric of a tight black tank top and then to sculpted legs clad in black leggings. 

Victor’s mouth goes dry as he returns his gaze to the guy’s face, swallowing thickly as he stands there feeling self conscious and underdressed in his plain white t-shirt and grey sweats. There’s no way this guy--this perfect specimen of a man--is gay _or_ single. Victor sighs, gaze trailing down again, spotting the little band of silver glinting on the ring finger of his left hand. But even that isn’t enough to deter Victor’s gaze. 

Lake nudges him. “We know he’s hot, close your mouth, dumbass,” she whispers, and Victor does, face heating up as he hopes the guy didn’t see anything. 

“Hi everyone. My name’s Benji. I know you were expecting Lina as usual, but unfortunately, she’ll be out of commission for the next few weeks so I’ll be filling in for her,” the guy says with a kind smile, running his hand through his hair as he steps onto his mat, his voice soft and soothing like the gentle hum of a drizzle on a late summer evening. “How about you go around the room and introduce yourselves so I can learn your names? Who wants to start?”

Everyone in the room stares blankly, but Benji only chuckles, weaving through the small group and wringing his hands as his bare feet patter across the floor. He pauses in front of Victor, who raises an eyebrow.

“Would you like to go first?” Benji asks, golden eyes glowing in the sunlight just like the rest of him.

Victor points at himself and then glances around as Lake chuckles before immediately clearing her throat.

“Uh… s-sure. I’m Victor,” he says after a moment’s hesitation but thankful that his complexion doesn’t betray him; Benji nods, peering at him for a moment longer than Victor is comfortable with before he moves on through the room.

His eyes wander south again as Benji walks away, and Victor can only pray that he can make it through this session without combusting. Lake’s giggling isn’t helping at all.

Once everyone has introduced themselves, Benji puts on some relaxing flute music as they begin with a warmup, sitting on their mats with their legs crossed as they do some deep breathing exercises. Then they move into a series of postures, which Benji demonstrates, before he wanders around the room correcting stances.

The first posture, Warrior I, is a simple lunge with arms raised straight up like pillars, which Victor always found easy to do at first--until he has to hold it for several minutes at a time. He’d thought his time playing basketball in college would have prepared him for this, but he was wrong; as his elbows loosen, shoulders burning, he wants nothing more than to put his arms down, but when a pair of soft hands straighten out his elbows, Victor opens his eyes to see Benji’s face in front of him.

“You’re doing great, Victor,” he whispers, his fingers lingering like filaments of tissue paper in the wind, “just a few more seconds… you got this…”

Victor exhales loudly once they move on to Warrior II, and so he twists his back foot against the mat and stretches his arms out so one is in front and the other behind him; then he watches as Benji observes his classmates, briefly making corrections before moving on, until he returns to where Victor struggles to keep his limbs from shaking and collapsing down after only a few minutes. 

Benji hums as he stands in front of Victor, tipping his chin up slightly with the tip of his finger before he places his palms under Victor’s triceps and raises them slightly. He runs his digits along the underside of Victor’s arms until he reaches his wrists, the points where Benji touches him like little jabs from a needle that had just been removed from a flame, but Victor doesn’t want Benji to pull away. When he finally does, after what seems like an eternity, he feels a loss. 

With each new posture, Victor watches as Benji comes around, and each time, he takes note of how much time he spends fixing Victor’s positions, even in the few cases where he isn’t actually doing it wrong. Once they reach the cooldown point at the end of class, stretching out their tired limbs in Pigeon pose, Victor sitting with one leg straight behind and the other folded like a question mark in front as he leans forward with his hands stretching as far as they will go on the floor, his back almost entirely flat, he feels the sensation of Benji’s hand resting gently between his shoulder blades, and he tenses at the touch. 

When Victor sits up straight again, he raises an eyebrow as he lies back flat on the mat with both hands at his sides; Benji whispers a “good job” and walks away. After a few minutes of deep breathing, Victor would normally have fallen asleep, but there’s something about this session that’s keeping his brain on alert.

The class ends, and Victor sits up, rubbing the sweat from his brow before he rolls up his mat. He watches as people filter out of the room and Benji says a cheery, personalized goodbye to each of them. Victor grabs his jacket before waving at Lake as she darts out while muttering something about an appointment. Benji stands hunched over a laptop on a table, and Victor wonders if he can slip out quietly without Benji noticing. 

Buttoning up his jacket, Victor puts his supplies under his arm once more before he tiptoes over to the door. As soon as he does, Benji whips around.

“Victor! You did a great job today. I’ll see you next week?” Benji says, in far too cheery a voice than Victor thinks is necessary.

“Uh… Yeah. Thanks. See ya,” Victor stammers, giving him a short wave before returning into the cold.

* * *

He would be lying if he said he isn’t counting down the days until the next class as he leans back in his chair with his feet on his desk, staring out the window at the football field which he has the misfortune of having as the view from his classroom. When he stares off into space at the light blue sky, all he can think about is Benji, even though he has no right to. 

Hell, he even finds himself daydreaming about Benji in the teacher’s lounge and in between conversations with his colleagues, picturing that perfectly sculpted face, small but muscle-bound frame, and that _hair_ that seems to lay perfectly no matter what he does to it. Even the ring on his finger, which should tell Victor that Benji is _off limits_ doesn’t stop his mind from running wild. 

Each week’s session fills Victor with both dread and anticipation, an electric storm in his belly that seems to worsen each time he lays eyes on Benji, gnawing at him like a starved rat even though his therapist tells him it’s unhealthy for him to fixate so much one something, or in this case, _someone_ , he’ll never have. It would be in his best interest to stop, to go to yoga sessions on a different day and at a different time, but Victor simply _doesn’t_ want to, and that’s that. 

A few weeks later, Victor enters the studio once again, giving Benji his usual greeting, only to see him frowning down at his phone, as if he were on an entirely different plane of existence. He’s wearing a grey outfit with a loose t-shirt, hair disheveled and with dark bags under his eyes. Victor’s eyebrows burrow into his hairline as he finds Lake again.

“Professor Hottie over there looks fucking _terrible_ ,” Lake whispers in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah, I wonder what happened,” Victor whispers back.

“I’ll put down ten bucks someone actually died.”

“ _Lake!”_

“ _What_? I’m just saying!”

“I’m not betting on someone’s suffering, that’s messed up… Maybe we should invite him out for drinks or something afterward?”

Shrugging, Lake sits down on her mat, and Victor does the same. “With a body like that he probably doesn’t drink anything but water,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“I just feel bad for him.”

“Well, I’m sure he has other friends to talk to. Besides, I don’t have time for a social life these days. Kim K bought a house in Atlanta with the money she got from her divorce from Kanye so she has me running all over town to figure out how to decorate it.”

“Uhh… cool,” Victor says absently, as he watches Benji put on the familiar peaceful music and sit down on his mat at the front of the class.

“Hi everyone. Welcome back,” Benji says, his voice soft but somehow monotonous, devoid of life, as if someone had plucked the spirit out of him and locked it in a box outside his body. 

They begin with the warmup as usual and Benji zigzags listlessly through the room, paying attention more to his own feet than to the people around him. He does pause for corrections, of course, but Victor notices his carelessness as he all but trips over the air in the process. Regardless, his voice still sounds wounded, and Victor wonders why he has such an urge to make whatever he’s going through just _stop_.

When Benji pauses before him as he always does in the midst of Warrior II, raising Victor’s outstretched arms slightly and gazing at his hands instead of his face, Victor can only lean into the touch. Victor watches as he retreats, left hand dangling, bare--where the silver band that Victor had grown to hate used to live. It was as if the hours he’d spent with his pupils burning into it had finally paid off.

Once class has ended and Victor leans down to roll up his mat, he watches as Benji slips out the door before everyone else, clearly in a hurry. He bids goodbye to Lake as she leaves, too, and soon, everyone else has retreated from the room, leaving him alone. 

Buttoning up his jacket, Victor walks out into the parking lot again, trekking down the pavement to the other side because he had arrived a bit late once the lot was packed. There’s a car right beside his and as he approaches, he sees that within is none other than Benji, back heaving as his body racks with sobs. 

The sight alone makes Victor’s chest tighten, and before he can decide otherwise, his legs carry him over to the car. Victor taps on the glass with his knuckle, eyebrow raised, and Benji jumps, wiping his face in his sleeves hastily before rolling down the window.

“Is everything okay?” Victor asks, voice gentle.

Benji opens his mouth, then closes it again. He swallows, staring down at his hands, tears bundling over the edge of his eyelashes again before they cascade, traitorous, onto his lap and leave little black spots behind right beside his phone. Benji turns off the screen, but he’s too late; Victor had already gotten a glimpse of the photo that he’d been examining: an image of Benji and another man, arms draped over each other and lips pressed together in a passionate kiss.

“I’m fine,” Benji says, frown deepening as he passes his forearm over his eyes again. 

“You wouldn’t be sitting in your car alone crying over your ex… _fiancé?_ If you were actually fine,” Victor replies, and Benji bristles.

“Well, with all due respect, I don’t think that’s any of your business, Victor,” Benji snaps.

“Okay, fair,” Victor says, holding his hands up in front of himself in surrender. “All I’m saying is that… I know we don’t know each other like that, but if you want anyone to talk to… the offer’s on the table.”

Narrowing his eyes, Benji peers up at him through the tiny hairs of his eyebrows, and then sighs, his entire body deflating. “Fine. You drive a hard bargain. Get in. And sorry for snapping at you.”

Smiling, Victor pumps his fist before jogging around the car to the other side and sliding into the passenger seat. 

“You better not snitch on me for being unprofessional,” Benji says, holding up a finger sternly; Victor nods.

“Snitches get stitches, I know,” Victor teases, before clearing his throat. “Feel free to vent at your leisure. I’m all ears.”

“Well... “ Benji says, hesitating and fiddling with his fingers before turning to face Victor. “This is… kinda awkward to discuss with one of my students…”

“ _God_ , I know. Although for me it’s more like… secondhand stuff I hear about relationship drama. Even though my students aren’t actually that much younger than me at the end of the day…”

“Wait, for real? You’re a teacher, too?” Benji asks with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, I teach high school. Seniors, so they’re not as mean as they could be, but still… Anyway, enough about me. Like I said, you have the floor.”

“Umm… Okay, so… I was with this guy--let’s call him _Derek--_ for over three years and we were engaged and honestly I should have known something was up when I proposed to him and he said yes even though his face was like,” Benji says, motioning in a circle with his hand to his own visage and scowling to imitate Derek’s reaction. 

“That’s… really weird, what the hell. I mean, I get it can be tough to say no to someone you love but that seems a bit… harsh?”

“Wait, but it gets better. Listen to _this_ ,” Benji says, eyes widening dramatically. “I was _so_ excited to get married and started doing all the planning and whatnot, and guess what this _asshole_ \--” his voice cracks, but he continues, “had the nerve to say to me?”

“What?”

“I asked him what he thought about the venue I’d picked out. It was this really gorgeous Victorian place on a lake with a bunch of swans and shit, and if I booked it ASAP I could get a really good deal… well, he was like ‘I don’t even care about this heterosexual nonsense, just don’t make me pay for it’.”

“Are you… are you serious? What the fuck? Oops, I mean… _heck._ ”

“You can say ‘fuck’, we’re grownups, you know.”

“I know, I just… kids, you know. But anyway, _fuck_ that guy.”

“Yeah, like, I _get it_ , like the institution of marriage was never welcoming to gay people and all that but like he could have just _told_ me he wasn’t into it in all the times before when we literally like… talked about building a life together, you know?”

“Exactly. God… and making _you_ pay for it all? What a dickhead,” Victor says, face heating up in emphatic rage. 

“And the worst part was that after I said ‘are you joking?’ he had the nerve to be like ‘you know what, this isn’t working’ and just _walked_ out of _my_ apartment and then blocked my number before I even got a chance to call him,” Benji says, gesticulating wildly, face flushed as he unloads all his frustrations on Victor while the other nods sympathetically. “I didn’t even bother going to his place because I don’t wanna seem like the crazy ex or anything…”

“Oh my god, Benji, I’m so sorry,” Victor sighs, resting a hand on his shoulder. He bites his lip for a moment, glancing up at the ceiling and praying that God doesn’t send him directly into the ovens of Hell for all the effort he’s putting into suppressing the grin on his face right now. “He’s missing out, honestly. You’re _way_ too good for him.”

“Thank you…” Benji says, exhaling loudly. “It feels good to just let it out, you know? Thanks for listening to me rant,” he adds with a chuckle.

“No, it’s totally fine. I uh… hope you can find someone who’s better than him and who treats you how you deserve to be treated,” Victor says earnestly, eyes sparkling as he holds Benji’s gaze. 

Benji observes him for a moment, smiling as his pupils flit instead to his lap, where he fidgets with his fingers again. 

“Me, too,” he mutters, more to himself than to Victor.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Victor asks, trying to change the subject. He can feel his heart skipping half its beats as he watches Benji’s profile, breath hitching in his throat as the last remnants of the sun caress his face like a shining, jagged sliver of glass. 

“Probably just gonna go home and down a bottle of wine all by myself and then cry into a bowl of popcorn while I watch _Spirited Away_ for like the fiftieth time,” Benji says with a toothy grin.

“That… sounds kinda fun, actually. Better than grading papers, at least.”

“I mean, I’m supposed to be cutting carbs, but right now I kinda… don’t care. I’m too sad,” Benji says bitterly. 

“Carbs are good for the soul,” Victor says as-a-matter-of-factly, holding his hand over his heart. “If you’re interested, I could bake you some brownies or something to help you feel better?”

“As lovely as that sounds, I don’t think that’s a good idea. But thank you,” Benji says, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and giggling. He rubs his palms against the tops of his thighs.

Victor shrugs, mouth scrunching to the side. “No problem. But I guess I uh… should leave you to get home to your movie night,” he says, patting Benji gently on the shoulder. “Also if you ever wanted to talk some more, would you want my number? So you can call me?” he asks, withdrawing his own phone from his pocket and unlocking it.

“Okay, _that_ is an offer I can actually accept, because you’re honestly really easy to talk to. Lake must be very lucky,” Benji says.

“Thank you but… do you _really_ think Lake was my girlfriend?” Victor says with a laugh, smacking himself in the forehead. “ _God_ no. She’s dating my best friend, Mia, actually. I’m gay.”

“Oh. Now I feel silly.”

“It’s okay. I don’t have a boyfriend, either, which is kinda annoying, especially since my mom keeps asking me when I’m finally gonna get hitched,” Victor says with a roll of his eyes and a small smile, face hot enough to melt a slab of ice.

“Well, we can both be lonely gay bachelors, then,” Benji teases. “May I?” he asks, holding out his hand, and Victor places his phone down gingerly, jumping when their fingers brush. Benji keys in his phone number quickly before returning it, and Victor watches, enraptured. “There you go,” Benji says, snapping him back to reality.

“Thanks,” Victor says as he takes his phone back and types ‘ _hey it’s Victor😉’_ before erasing the 😉 and replacing it with 🙂 to be more neutral and not look like he wants to get in Benji’s pants even if it’s something he _absolutely_ does want to do.

“Don’t mention it. Thank _you_ for listening to me drag my shitty ex. I have other friends I could tell but like… ranting through the phone doesn’t have that same sort of catharsis, you know?”

“Definitely,” Victor says. “Anyway… I guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah. See ya,” Benji says with a wave. “Maybe I’ll call you before that.”

Victor gives him a final look before exiting, holding his hand up as Benji drives away, heart hammering a vicious rhythm in his ribcage like a war drum. He unlocks his screen and looks down at it, beaming at the ten digits, ten little pillars guiding him through the darkness. 

* * *

_“Look at this dog 🐶_ ” Victor writes, giggling to himself as he attaches an image of a little chihuahua with a blond wig in the chat and sends it to Benji. 

He’s on his free period at the end of the day, which means that in less than one hour, he’ll get to see Benji again. Victor realizes he’s close to running out of classes, but he’s happy to buy more if it means he gets to keep seeing him. And especially that now, Benji’s single, and so he has a chance.

His phone dings, and he eagerly picks it up, beaming as he opens the message, but his face immediately falls as he reads.

“ _Omg that’s hilarious i have to show Marcus😂”_ Benji had written.

 _“Who’s Marcus?🤔_ ” Victor writes back before he can stop himself.

“ _Oh he’s just someone I met online. Nbd just casual for now 🤷♂️”_

Victor can feel something bubbling inside him; he takes a deep breath, holding it until he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t let it out, then breathes out slowly. He does this a few times, the blood pumping through him at lightspeed slamming to a halt. His fingers hover over the keyboard, and he wonders if it’s worth responding at all. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Victor thinks that maybe this is karma for being happy over Benji’s breakup with Derek. All that negative energy he’d thrown out into the universe is bound to come back to him eventually, and it looks like sooner rather than later.

Groaning, Victor sets his phone back down on the desk, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He wonders if it’s worth going to yoga class at all. Maybe that’ll show Benji what he’s missing…

 _No, that’s super fucking manipulating,_ Victor thinks, picking his phone back up again. 

_“Oh, glad you’ve found someone better than Derek, then😇_ ” Victor writes. 

“ _Eh, he’s all right. More of a distraction, really_ ”

Victor can’t prevent the grin from blooming on his face when he reads these words, but he also can’t halt the painful talons of jealousy clawing at him at the same time. He knows he needs to stop.

“ _But anyway. See you in a bit?😁🖤”_ Benji writes.

Tapping his finger against his chin, Victor ponders how to respond to this question. Perhaps it would be good for his mental health to take a day off, as counterintuitive as it sounds. Making a face, he looks at his phone again.

“ _Actually, something came up😔 See you next week”_ he writes.

 _“Oh ok☹️”_ Benji writes.

At the end of the school day, Victor makes his way back home to his white-walled apartment that he shares with his cat--a little tabby called Pancake--instead of the yoga studio, heating up a container of leftover spaghetti bolognese and eating it while he watches whatever shows up in his Netflix queue. 

Afterward, he feeds Pancake her dinner and then sits down to grade papers until his eyes start to burn both from the dryness of being open for so long as well as from some of the ridiculous claims some of the students had made in their essays. 

One of the most memorable ones had claimed that _Lord of the Flies_ was about real flies but that everyone who had read it any other way was wrong; the student had even included an elaborate drawing of a pig and asked if they could get some points for it despite their essay being entirely speculative and without any real supporting evidence; Victor chuckles at this, but still has no choice but to write “see me after class”, despite admiring their boldness.

Taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes, Victor then picks up his phone, shocked to see another message from Benji from about an hour ago. 

“ _Class was really weird without you today😔“_ he’d written, and Victor has no idea how to respond. His heart rate spikes to inhuman heights, and he knows he won’t sleep that night.

“ _Idk if you’re still awake rn but I promise I’ll be there next week 😅”_ he writes, sending it before he can overthink it. 

His phone pings almost immediately and Victor sighs as he checks it again; lo and behold, Benji.

“ _Good😈 You better”_

 _“Is that a threat?🧐”_ Victor writes back, chuckling to himself. 

_“It depends jlfjdkfhdkjfhf”_

_“Oops”_ Benji writes back right after.

_“What does that mean?”_

_“Nothinkg”_

_“Nothing*”_ Benji follows up.

 _“Are you drunk?”_ Victor writes, biting the back of his hand.

_“I may have had a little too much pinot🤡”_

_“Go to bed, Benji. It’s late🥱”_

Victor sighs, shaking his head as he drags his palm down his face. He shuts off the light in the kitchen and retreats into his room, plugging his phone in to charge on the black wooden nightstand and stripping down to his underwear before he goes to wash up for the night. Pancake leaps onto his bed, kneading a spot on the sheets and turning in a circle a few times before she plops down. 

When he returns, patting his face dry with a towel, he sees another message from Benji, questioning his own judgment that he’s still entertaining their conversation. 

“ _I just wish you were here with me in my bed😭💔”_ Benji had written.

 _Nope nope nope nope_ they are _not_ doing that, not when Benji is clearly drunk off his ass and when Victor suddenly grows a backbone and a conscience all at once. 

_“Benji, you’re drunk. You don’t mean that. Go to bed🥴”_ he writes, turning his phone on silent and flipping it over so it’s face down with an air of finality. 

With a sigh, Victor takes a deep breath again, holding it as he walks back into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He pulls out a mug and box of chamomile tea from the cabinet, taking out two sachets and dropping them into the mug like two fish caught on a line that he’s returning to sea. 

As he waits for the water to boil, he stares at the little packets, focusing on his breathing until the kettle clicks and he pours the water over them, mesmerized by the way the little bundles expand on contact. When he makes his way back down the corridor, he sees Pancake eyeing him curiously from the doorway, before she approaches him, twirling her tail around his leg as she purrs and nuzzles her head against him. 

He returns to his room, setting his cup of tea down on the nightstand before he turns on some soft piano music and drapes the duvet over him. All he can do is stare at his overturned phone, itching to flip it over and see if Benji has responded. It takes all his willpower not to. He keeps watching it until his tea has cooled completely, entirely losing track of time as it marches on around him in silence. 

When he finally realizes that it’s almost midnight, he downs his tea before lying fully prone and burying himself under the covers, his heart booming heavy and vigorous until he finally falls into a mediocre sleep.

* * *

Victor’s alarm blares and he jumps, not at all ready to face the day when he swats at his phone to snooze. He sits up, picking the crust from the corners of his eyes and sniffling as the familiar weight on his chest slides down, before he unplugs his phone from the charger. Pancake mews and shoves against his ribs with her paw, withdrawing her claws for a moment as he pets her head absently.

Covering his mouth as he yawns, Victor stares at the screen, blinking bleary eyes as he focuses on the notification indicating he has a message from Benji. Not just one, but several, in fact. His body suddenly feels like it’s going to melt into the ground as his shaky finger unlocks his phone and he reads the messages.

_11:53 - “But I wanna cuddle w u🥺 “_

_11:57 - “Did you go to sleep?”_

_12:01 - “Pay attention to me pls😤”_

_12:07 - “Fine”_

_12:08 - “Ok but I’m pretty flexible if u know what that means😈”_

Victor blushes, scrolling through several increasingly more inappropriate messages and wondering how many, if _any,_ had been meant for him. Once he gets to the end of the chain of messages, he sees one much longer than the previous ones that Benji had sent him this morning once he’d sobered up.

_“God, Victor, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for going absolutely apeshit on you last night. I realize how messy it must look for me to be drunk texting you into the morning but this is honestly super embarrassing and I hope it doesn’t make you think differently of me. Looks like a good lesson for me to not get drunk and text people. Also I think some of those might have been for Marcus but I don’t really know what got into me… Anyway, I hope I’ll see you next week at yoga?”_

“Well, that was definitely… something, right, Pancake?” Victor says, setting his phone down and leaning over to kiss the cat gently on the nose. “Don’t look at me like that, I _know_ boys are silly, you don’t have to tell _me_ that,” Victor says with a chuckle.

He picks up his phone again with a groan, not sure how one even responds to some of the requests a drunk Benji had made last night. Hell, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to look Benji in the eye knowing what goes on in his head, even if it’s stuff that he would absolutely be into, provided Benji _actually_ likes him back. So far, he hadn’t given him any indication. 

“ _It’s all good. Don’t worry about it 👍”_ Victor writes.

Then, he rises from bed and places Pancake on the floor, before he slides into his slacks and a plaid button-down and then makes his way to school.

* * *

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mia says, before popping a chocolate-covered churro bite into her mouth, chewing it quickly, and then swallowing. She wipes the cinnamon-sugar crystal residue from her lap as her black, coiled hair bounces with each movement. “He _drunk texted_ you? And you’re still wondering if you should ask him out?” she asks, narrowing her eyes in Victor’s direction.

They’d commandeered a bench in the middle of the mall on a Saturday afternoon, watching as families with children glide by, exhausted parents pushing strollers and forking over cotton candy as a momentary reprieve from their spawn’s incessant screaming. Victor smiles politely as they pass, hoping to never be in that position. He likes kids, but what he likes even more is the chance to give them back to their parents at the end of the day. 

“I mean, he’s kinda giving me a lot of mixed signals,” Victor says, leaning his elbows on the back of the bench and staring up at the glass and steel ceiling. “Like… I _did_ drop the fact that I’m gay a while back when he told me about his ex-fiancé but then he had to go and hook up with _Marcus_ ,” he says the last word in a mocking tone. “Should I just give up?”

“See, normally I would say _yes_ , stop trying to get with this guy. Because you’re getting into Nice Guy capital T M territory. But based on what you’ve told me… wait, can I read the messages?” 

Grimacing, Victor withdraws his phone from his pocket and opens the chain of messages between him and Benji. He hands it over to Mia, who wipes her hand on the top of her trousers before she reads. Her eyes widen.

“What?” Victor asks, panic flooding his system. 

“I don’t believe for a second that this was an accident.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“The fact that he said some of the messages were actually meant for Marcus is _bullshit_ , man. He’s _so_ thirsty for you, Victor. And honestly, I don’t blame him,” she says with a wink.

“Honestly, I just don’t wanna get my hopes up. I’m tired of going after guys who will only ever see me as their friends.”

“Understandable, but this guy is _into_ you. Trust me. My gut is never wrong.”

“So what should I do?”

“Ask him out, obviously, you big old dork. Plus, he said things with that other guy are just ‘casual’ right? Oh, wait…”

“Well, yeah but… you’re sorta scaring me now, Mia,” Victor says, pausing before he takes a bite of a churro.

“I was just thinking that he may have done that on purpose. The whole seeing someone else thing, I mean.”

“Yeah, on purpose to forget about his terrible ex.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Like, you two already knew each other before he got with what’s his name, right?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s because he didn’t want you to be his rebound, duh. Do I need to spell it out for you?” 

Victor chews on his churro slowly, the weight of his thoughts impeding him, until it finally dawns on him.

“Wait… so he _is_ into me.”

“Plus, why do you think he would mention his fling if he didn’t want you to get jealous? Think about it.”

“Because we’re _friends?_ ” 

“Close, but no.”

 _“God_ , these mind games are fucking exhausting,” Victor says, exhaling loudly as he holds his head in his hands. 

“Well, if you use your head, you’ll never have to play them ever again,” Mia says, standing up from the bench. 

“That’s not really that helpful.”

“Just ask him out. That’s all you need to do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Like I said, use your head. You know which one,” she says, holding her hand out and helping Victor up. “Anyway, wanna go see my new art installation? It’s just downstairs.”

“Wait, they finally finished putting it in?” Victor asks, beaming, as Mia loops her arm around his, using her other hand to continue eating churros. 

“I think it was… a couple of days ago, but yes, it’s finally ready. You can see it from upstairs, too, of course, but it looks cooler from the ground, in my humble opinion,” she says with a chuckle. 

They walk arm in arm through the mall, the blinding white floors reflecting the fluorescent artificial lights and the natural sunlight simultaneously. Once they reach the lower level, making their way through the people packed together like grains of sand in a jar filled to the brim, they push through to the other side.

Before them stands a huge steel sculpture of a willow tree, triumphant and radiant in the lights that beam down on it from all sides as a giant bird rests atop it, wings outstretched and aflame. Mia holds her hands out proudly with a “Ta-da!” and Victor can only gape.

“Mia, this is _amazing_!” Victor gasps, taking out his phone to snap a few photos. “Benji would love this,” he adds, sending one of the photos to Benji via text.

Rolling her eyes, Mia fishes out the final churro from the bag and eats it. “If you don’t just ask him out already, I’m gonna kick your ass,” she says with a sly grin.

* * *

Victor arrives a bit earlier than usual, but somehow not early enough to be the first one in the studio. 

Benji is in the middle of a conversation with some of the women in the class, arms crossed over his chest as he chuckles politely at something one of them says as she hands him a little piece of paper, which he stashes in his bag along with the hundreds of other phone numbers he’s collected that he’s too polite to refuse or even to throw away. 

Their eyes meet as the women leave, and Victor notes the way Benji’s cheeks flush as he looks away. Victor knows his own have done the same, but he approaches Benji anyway.

“Hey, Benji…” 

“Hey… Look, before you say anything, I just wanted to apologize again, _in person_ , for being so messy last week. It will _absolutely_ never happen again,” Benji says, as if he’s using all his strength to retain eye contact; his gaze wavers for a moment.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” Victor says with a smile, shaking his head. “Sorry my text to you was so curt but like… I know you’ve been having a rough time lately, so it’s fine.”

“Thank you,” Benji says with a sigh. “I think I’m doing a lot better lately, though.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Victor says, and he means it. He reaches out to squeeze Benji’s shoulder and Benji leans into the touch. “How are things going with Marcus, by the way?”

“Who?” Benji asks, tilting his head to the side, before his expression changes to one of realization. “Oh, yeah. I dumped him,” he says with a shrug.

“Really? Why?” Victor asks, feigning incredulity.

“Well, lemme think… he has the emotional range of a pinecone, can’t stomach cats, thinks embezzling and bedazzling are the same thing, oh and he _robbed_ me, I can go on…”

“Wait, he _robbed you_? Jesus, Benji!”

“It wasn’t anything major, just most of my rock collection. You know, the one that took me years to put together,” Benji says bitterly. “And a few of my _Final Fantasy_ games.”

“That sucks. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Not much I _can_ do and honestly I don’t wanna deal with him anymore. I think I might just be done with dating,” Benji says before he exhales loudly. “Thanks for listening to me, though. Again,” he says, forcing a smile. 

“No problem. I understand why you would just want to be done with people, though,” Victor says, mirroring Benji’s expression. His heart hammers, his palms sweat, and he tries to resist the urge to reach out.

He can’t resist, though, and Benji simply watches his hand, and as soon as he tucks the loose lock of hair behind his ear and pulls away, Benji’s Adam’s apple bobs, and Victor realizes what he’s just done.

“Thanks,” Benji says quietly.

“Do you have time to talk after class?” 

“Sure.”

“Cool.”

Victor waves and walks over to take his spot beside Lake, who gives him a curious look, and the class begins as Benji starts his soothing monologue that manages to both entice Victor and put him on the precipice of sleep at the same time.

They’re doing a bit of a different routine today, one involving a great deal of squatting and lunging, and by the end of it, Victor’s thighs are radiating with pain as if someone had injected him with molten lava. 

He’s more than happy to sit down on his mat and stretch out his limbs at the end of class, reaching toward his toes, and finding that he can now touch them with ease, despite not having been able to when he first started. When Benji weaves around to ensure everyone is stretching properly, Victor watches him as he meanders, before he finally sits down before Victor, taking his sweaty hands in his own.

Benji smirks as he pulls Victor’s forward, stretching his back a bit farther beyond what he’s capable of, but not so far that it hurts; Benji knows what his limit is, after all. When Victor looks up at him, delighting in the way their palms and fingers seem to mold together like slabs of clay, forming so perfectly when in contact with each other that it feels like their design was intentional, Benji focuses on something behind him instead, and Victor looks away.

By the end of the session, Victor feels himself drifting off to sleep to the enthralling cadence of Benji’s voice until he wakes them, and Victor slowly picks himself up and gathers all his gear. Benji, as promised, waits for him, fidgeting with his hands and his hair, as the rest of the class leave, until finally, only Victor and Benji remain.

“What did you wanna tell me?” Benji asks, as Victor takes his jacket and drapes it over his shoulders.

“Not tell, more… ask,” Victor says, hesitating. 

Blinking, Benji tilts his head to the side. “Okay...”

“Well… I know you said you’re done with dating, but… I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out on a date with me? Like, this Sunday?” Victor rambles.

Biting his lip and eyes lighting up, Benji stares at him for a moment, silent, before he clears his throat and finally speaks. “You know what’s going on this Sunday right? February 14th…?”

“Oh _shit,_ I forgot, it’s Valentine’s Day!” Victor says, smacking himself in the forehead. “Dammit.”

Benji laughs, resting a hand on his arm. “Relax. Um… I would actually love to,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“Really? Oh, thank _goodness_. Whew,” Victor says, comically wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.

“What’s the plan, Romeo?” Benji asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans against the wall with a sly grin on his face.

“So… what do you think about a romantic dinner at my place circa 7 pm, that I’ll cook, of course. We can also have a little vino, but without the drunk texting, and we can just talk... and you can meet my _cat_ , and then afterward once Pancake gives you her blessing, we can go on a little walk in the park… There are some art installations similar to the one I sent you a picture of, by the same artist who is actually a personal friend… But we can of course just play it by ear, I’m pretty flexible,” he prattles, punctuating with a wink. Benji reddens.

“Your cat’s name is Pancake?” Benji asks, covering his mouth as he doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“ _That’s_ the thing you get excited about? It’s my favorite food!” 

“I’m not judging, I’m just saying… It’s cute, honestly,” Benji says as his chuckling dies down. “But yeah, that sounds _so_ nice. I’ve never been on like, a proper date with all the wining and dining and all that,” he adds, golden irises twinkling.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Well, you’ve just made my week, Victor Salazar. And quite possibly my month and year, too.”

Victor grins, taking one of Benji’s hands in his own and kissing the back of it gently. “See you Sunday, then,” he says, walking backward and not letting them separate until he gets too far away and Benji’s hand slips from his on its own.

“Bye,” Benji says, and he blows Victor a kiss.

* * *

“Hurry up, Vic, I have a meeting with Kim in like thirty minutes,” Lake says, clapping her hands together as she sits on the edge of Victor’s bed. “And the horrible feng shui in here is stressing me out.”

“Lake, chill. How long do you really think it’ll take for us to put together an outfit? He’s nervous, not hopeless,” Mia replies, rolling her eyes as Pancake leaps onto the bed and walks onto her lap, staring up at her curiously with wide eyes, tail raised, as she kneads at her with her little paws. With a soft smile, Mia gives her head a scratch. “And the feng shui isn’t _terrible_ , I helped decorate.”

“Both of those statements are debatable,” Lake teases. “But I’ve seen how he dresses for yoga.”

“You’re always overdressed for that,” Mia says with a giggle.

“Well, _yeah,_ I can’t let anyone see me looking like a mess. Unlike _some_ people,” Lake says, pointed, as she glances over to the closet where Victor rummages through his clothes, “ _I_ actually care what I look like.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Victor says, walking to the bed with a handful of clothes and dropping them behind the two women perched there. Pancake startles, jumping from Mia’s lap and onto the hardwood floor.

Mia twists around and cards through what Victor had selected, making a face as she sees each new item—colorful plaids and flannels, a few plain white and grey and blue button-downs and several with floral designs, either with bold, bright colors or more muted but no less stylish in black and white.

“Okay, this isn’t as bad as I was expecting, actually,” Lake says, picking out some shirts gingerly so she can get a closer look.

“I told you,” Mia says. “Being a teacher and looking like a disaster don’t really go hand in hand.”

“Again, babe, we can debate that, too,” Lake says with a grin as she pulls out a shirt with bold green leaves and red roses, holding is up so she can admire it. “I like this one a lot.”

Victor scratches the back of his neck and makes a face. “I think that was one of those things I bought thinking ‘I’ll wear this on a special occasion’ but don’t you think it’s kinda… loud?” he asks.

Mia purses her lips and examines it. “Even though today would be considered a special occasion, I think Victor’s right. This is better for a second or third date, I think. Which you two will _definitely_ be going on,” she says with a knowing look. 

Pouting, Lake sets the shirt aside. “It’s a strong contender either way. Sometimes you gotta step outside your comfort zone.”

“I could argue I’m stepping outside of my comfort zone by inviting the hottest _and_ sweetest guy I’ve ever met to my house for a first date and hoping he likes my food,” Victor says, going through the pile of shirts again.

“Okay, you’re not wrong. But wait, what if you wear _this…”_ Lake says, holding up a modest black button-up shirt with grey and white flowers, “with white pants? That would look _stunning.”_

“And when I spill red wine all over my white pants, what then?” Victor says.

Throwing her head back in raucous laughter, Mia grabs onto Lake’s shoulder for support. She wipes her eyes. “I didn’t know you were a toddler. But fair. Maybe try this with dark pants?” she says.

Taking the shirt and standing in front of the mirror, Victor hums as he looks at it, before he scrunches his mouth to the side and unbuttons the shirt he’s currently wearing. Once he’s buttoned up the floral shirt, he admires how it fits him, smiling at his own reflection when he realizes that he looks damn good.

“I think we have a winner,” Mia says, holding her fists up next to her head.

“Should I have it tucked in or not?” Victor asks, tucking the shirt into his jeans and realizing that it suits his figure much better that way. He rolls up the sleeves to the elbows, nodding at himself, before twirling around to face Mia and Lake. 

“It looks better like that. Our baby boy is learning how to fashion!” Lake squeals in delight.

“Yeah, dang, Vic, you used to not be able to put an outfit together but I’m impressed,” Mia says, nodding sagely.

“Thank you guys _so_ much, I appreciate you,” Victor says, taking one last look at himself before he unbuttons his shirt again. “Okay, uh, so I need to iron this and get dinner started but I’ll let you know how things go afterward.”

“Glad we could help,” Mia says, rising from her seat and walking out into the corridor as Pancake meows and stares up at her, crestfallen. “I’ll be back soon, Pancake. But you’re gonna have two dads soon, that’s so exciting,” she says sweetly as she picks Pancake off the floor and kisses her on the cheek as her body hangs limply in the air.

“Please don’t get my daughter’s hopes up,” Victor says with a soft chuckle. “She’s already endured several disappointments.”

“If you don’t fix that attitude…” Mia scoffs, holding a fist up and pretending to punch Victor’s shoulder with a giggle. 

“You might wanna clean this room up in case anything happens… later,” Lake says, motioning to the clothes laying all over Victor’s bed with a smirk. “Messy rooms aren’t sexy.”

Victor blushes as he walks them to the door of his apartment. “I don’t know if we’ll even get that far today.”

Mia and Lake share a look, both of them snorting as they hold back laughter. 

“What?” Victor asks, narrowing his eyes.

“This is the first time we’ve seen you get so excited about a guy, is all,” Lake says as she slips into her Jimmy Choos.

“I said that; you’ve only known him for a few months. But yeah, what Lake said,” Mia says with a giggle. “Also, like, don’t do what you’re not both comfortable with, but also, don’t let some arbitrary social rules limit what you do.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, though,” Victor says. 

“Good luck!” Lake says as she gives Victor a hug, and Mia does the same; then they’re off, leaving Victor alone with his cat again.

“All right… Let’s do this,” Victor sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at Pancake, who lets out a soft meow in response.

He gazes at his living room, padding through it; he pauses to straighten out some of the pillows and smooths out the blanket he’d draped over the back of the couch, before he enters the kitchen and opens one of the drawers to pick out a pretty red tablecloth. 

Pancake follows at Victor’s feet as he goes to his room, where he stops, setting the tablecloth down on his bed before he tidies up the clothes he’d taken out of his closet, hanging them all up and then shutting it. He makes his bed, then opens the window and burns some incense before he proceeds to iron, dreading the task, because the perfectionist in him comes out then and only then. 

Once he’s gotten things good enough, he hangs his shirt for later and returns to the kitchen to cover the table. He checks to ensure it’s even before he takes a few candles out of the cupboard and places them decoratively on the table, along with a vase that he fills with violets and gentle pink snapdragons from his balcony garden. Finally, he sets the table with silverware.

Tying his apron around his waist, Victor connects his phone to the speakers in his kitchen and puts it on shuffle, shimmying his shoulders as “Levitating” by Dua Lipa comes on. He pulls out some tempeh, eggs and vegetables from the fridge, and chopping the tempeh and mushrooms up for the vegetarian ‘meatballs’ he plans to make, and then putting the tomatoes, onions and garlic with spices into a pot to cook down into a sauce. Once he’s done with preparing the ingredients and puts the meatballs to bake, he sets another pot to boil with salted water for pasta.

Victor checks the time, jumping when he sees that it’s already 6:30. He tells Pancake to watch the stove as he goes to wash quickly, styling his hair and getting dressed before he sprays himself with some fancy Dior cologne that makes him smell like the woods. He admires himself one last time in the mirror, then picks up Pancake and they return to the kitchen together.

He enters the room just as the water for the pasta boils, and he puts some spaghetti in to cook before he checks on the sauce and ‘meatballs’, both of which are approaching doneness. Now all he needs to do is wait, which gives his mind plenty of time to wander to how royally he can fuck up this date. Taking a few deep breaths, he makes himself some chamomile tea, then lights the candles on the table, staring into the tiny dancing flames for a moment as they contort like little pieces of sunlight, and all he can think about is Benji’s eyes.

A few minutes after the kettle clicks, the loud _ding dong_ of the doorbell startles Victor from his thoughts and he rises from his crouching position on the floor. He changes the music to an instrumental playlist and pads down the hallway.

“How do I look?” he asks Pancake, who gives him a blank expression in return as he takes the bouquet of roses and daisies from the vase in the foyer, along with the heart-shaped box of chocolates, before he opens the door.

“Hey, Victor, Happy Valentine’s Day!” Benji says with a smile from the doorway, clad in a black leather jacket and dark jeans as the light bounces off his perfectly styled hair like a halo. He’s holding out a mixed bouquet of some deep red roses and carnations, pink alstromeria, huckleberry and violets. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day! You didn’t have to get me anything,” Victor says chuckling and stepping aside so Benji can enter. They kiss each other on the cheeks in greeting. 

Benji takes his shoes and jacket off, revealing the loose burgundy crop top knit turtleneck underneath, and then they exchange gifts, marveling at how pretty the bouquets they chose for each other are; Victor has to try his hardest to peel his gaze away from Benji’s exposed midriff. They decide to put them into vases so they don’t wilt.

“And this must be the infamous Pancake,” Benji says, crouching down beside her as she watches him with a tipped head, suspicious. He holds his hand out to her and she sniffs it. “I’ve heard so much about you…”

“Don’t take it personally if she keeps her distance for a while, she’s usually really wary of stra--oh.”

They’re interrupted by Pancake imitating her namesake as she plops down on the floor with her belly up. Benji hesitates before he strokes her chin, and she closes her eyes, purring loudly. Victor can’t stop the smile overtaking his face as he watches Benji pet her, his movements so gentle and deliberate so he doesn’t startle her. 

“I think we’ll be fine,” Benji says, grinning as he stands up after a few moments. Pancake mews and makes a figure eight around his legs. 

“Damn, I’m impressed. You’re like a cat whisperer or something,” Victor says with a chuckle, leading Benji into the dimly-lit kitchen.

“Ironic, because I like cats a lot but I think I’m ultimately more of a dog person.”

“Me, too,” Victor says, pulling out one of the chairs at the table and motioning for Benji to sit. “Would you like some tea or coffee or anything to drink?” he asks.

“Just wine, please,” Benji says with a cheeky grin. “I promise you I won’t get so drunk that I start being weird again.” 

Victor giggles. “You got here just in time, the pasta and ‘meatballs’,” he says, making air quotes, “should be ready now…” 

“Why ‘meatballs’?” Benji asks, imitating Victor as he sits down. “Thanks for having me, by the way. I can’t believe you prepared this, it’s all so pretty and thoughtful.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Victor says, taking out a bottle of expensive wine he’d gotten from Lake as a gift for his birthday that he’d been waiting for a reason to open. “And the reason I put ‘meatballs’ in air quotes is because there’s no actual meat, because I know you said you’re vegetarian… So I hope they’re nice.”

“I figured as much,” Benji says, resting his cheek on his hand and watching as Victor pours two glasses for them before returning to the table and setting one of them down in front of him. “Thank you.”

“This wine is older than me so it better be good…” Victor says, sitting down for a moment. “You look really nice, by the way.”

Even in the candlelight, Victor can see how Benji blushes and averts his eyes. “Thanks, you look really nice, too.”

Victor’s body heats up, too, and he nods in thanks before taking a sip of wine, and Benji does the same.

“Oh, shit, this is actually really good,” Victor says, taking another sip. 

“Yeah, honestly… You said it’s _how_ old? Where did you even get it?”

“Twenty-seven. And Lake works with celebrities, so...”

“Remind me to talk to Lake more… So it’s older than me, too. Or at least, it will be until November,” Benji says with a wink. 

“That’s not how math works,” Victor teases, before he downs the rest of his glass. “But now that you mention it, I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask how old you are. Looks like there’s only a few months difference between us, then,” he says, rising from his seat and removing some plates from the cabinet. 

“You don’t believe in astrology, do you?” Benji asks, peering over the top of his wine glass at Victor.

“Not really, it’s more of a fun thing for me than a serious one,” Victor says, twirling some pasta into a nest and dropping a few meatballs before he pours some sauce over it all. “Do you want parmesan?”

“Hell yeah I want parmesan… _please_ ,” Benji says, finishing the rest of his wine and setting his glass back down on the table. “But yeah I don’t think Scorpio and Aquarius are that compatible so it’s good we’re not taking that zodiac stuff seriously,” Benji says with a chuckle. 

Victor sets their food down on the table before jogging back to bring the wine bottle over and refill their glasses. They continue chatting about their lives, their families, and college over their dinner as Pancake circles them, meowing occasionally with the expectation of table scraps but leaving disappointed when she gets nothing. 

“I made us tiramisu for dessert, by the way,” Victor says, collecting their plates and stowing them in the sink. “Hope you have room for it.”

Benji scoffs. “Of _course_ I have room for dessert,” he says, picking up Pancake from the floor and setting her on his lap.

“Enjoy,” Victor says, returning to the table bearing their tiramisu. 

“God, this is probably one of the most delicious dinners I’ve ever had,” Benji says with a smile.

“Thanks,” Victor says, mirroring Benji’s expression. He takes a bite, staring off into space. “I just realized that I only have one more class left,” he says.

“You know… I could always just give you private lessons,” Benji says, glancing at Victor through his eyelashes. “In exchange for food, of course.”

“Hmm… I’ll think about it.”

“Another nice thing about private lessons is that we also don’t have to wear clothes.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” Victor says, face warm, but he smiles nonetheless.

Once they’d finished gorging themselves on food, they decide to go on a late-night stroll, telling Pancake to watch the apartment in their absence. 

The cool air gives them an excuse to huddle for warmth, arms laced together as they walk through the park and chat some more, watching the way the moonlight glints off the surface of the lake that looks like a black mirror, still and calm. Close to the water’s edge sits a grove of trees under which sits a sprinkling of wildflowers that had begun to bloom. 

They crouch down, examining the flowers in the darkness, and Benji picks a violet, tucking it behind Victor’s ear, while Victor plucks a white Christmas rose and does the same to Benji. For a few minutes, they simply stay there among the hardy winter foliage, casting sidelong glances in their partially inebriated state, until eventually their hands find each other and they realize how frigid the air has become despite the heat of their blood burning through their clothes from within. 

Soon they return to Victor’s apartment, greeted by warmth and Pancake scolding them for being out in the cold. They’d walked off some of their dinner, feeling more comfortable as they remove their jackets and move to the living room, where Victor brings the rest of the wine, along with their glasses, and they continue their conversation curled up beside each other.

“Wait, _you’re_ in a band?” Victor asks, taking another sip of wine as he watches Benji stroke Pancake’s back; she’s planted herself right beside him, and Victor almost feels envious of how much attention Benji’s getting from her. “Yoga, painting, drawing, cooking, now music, apparently… is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

“I can’t swim,” Benji says, sidling even closer to Victor. 

“Wait… seriously?” 

“Yeah. Why would I lie about not being able to swim? That’s _so_ lame,” Benji chuckles, sipping more of his wine. Pancake stands up and stretches before she bounds away to hide under the couch, the noise becoming too much for her.

“I mean… it’s surprising, I guess, but not lame,” Victor says, realizing that they’re now fully alone.

“My parents didn’t have the money to pay for lessons when I was growing up, and then I sorta didn’t bother with it because we don’t really live near any major bodies of water, so I guess I just forgot about it,” Benji says, cheeks reddening. “Um… is it okay if I sit on your lap, by the way? I’m a little… cold.”

Victor’s brain short circuits immediately upon hearing the request, and he sets down his wine on the coffee table in front of him. “What?”

“I mean, only if you want to,” Benji says quickly. “I don’t wanna rush you if you think we’re moving too fast.”

“Yes… it’s okay, I just… I was surprised, is all.”

“Why?” Benji asks, setting his glass down, too, and sliding himself onto Victor’s lap, turning to face him so he can give him his undivided attention.

Victor giggles, not sure if it’s from his nerves from their sudden proximity or the wine, or perhaps both. “It’s just that… you’re basically the perfect guy, and I kept worrying that I was gonna mess things up, and you just… keep being amazing and I’m wondering if I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming, Victor,” Benji says, shaking his head with a small smile painted on his lips as he drapes an arm over Victor’s shoulder. 

“That’s exactly what someone in a dream would say!”

Benji pinches him gently on the arm and Victor recoils.

“ _Ow!_ ”

“See? You’re not dreaming. I’m real. This is _all_ real,” Benji says quietly, their faces getting unbearably close, so close, in fact, that Victor can see the individual freckles on Benji’s flushed cheeks, like little stars in the night sky, and all of a sudden, breathing becomes a _lot_ more difficult. 

He can’t stop himself from reaching out and cupping Benji’s cheek, sighing at the sensation of their skin finally colliding and sizzling on contact. And when Benji nuzzles against him and rests his palm on his chest, eyelids fluttering closed like dandelion seeds floating on the breeze, Victor wants to continue on believing that this is all a dream, but he trusts Benji’s words. 

“Can I kiss you?” Victor asks, as he’s imagined asking hundreds of times before, but he never thought he would actually get to say it aloud.

“I thought you would never ask,” Benji whispers, before they close the distance between them.

And Victor feels like he’s falling out of a plane without a parachute, as if God’s hand has pushed him out and the only thing that can save him is Benji’s lips on his own. When Benji kisses him back, the taste of wine swirling around on their tongues, Victor feels his soul leave his body, entering a plane where only he and Benji can inhabit, the rest of the world becoming but an infinitesimal object. 

When they pull apart, foreheads pressing together, with Victor knowing finally that it’s not a dream, and when Victor’s fingers brush against the exposed skin of Benji’s lower back as they shiver against one another, as if touched by icicles and magma all at once, they realize that they don’t want the night to end yet. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to drive home right now,” Benji murmurs.

“Yeah…”

“Do you think maybe we could… go to your room? Not to sleep, though. It’s too early for that.”

Victor grins and nods as Benji rolls off him onto the floor. They leave behind their half-finished wine, giggling as they wander down the short corridor to Victor’s room, as Pancake peeks out from under the couch.

A while later, Victor sighs, content, as he lay on his back in his bed wearing the biggest grin he could muster, as Benji rests with his head on Victor’s chest with an equally pleased expression. Victor brushes his fingers through Benji’s smooth tresses, his hands reciting a mantra that he doesn’t have the mental energy to speak. Benji lay with eyes closed as he draws invisible patterns on Victor’s sternum, and the sensation that would normally tickle feels oddly pleasant. It’s as everything is right with the world, every piece of the puzzle arranged exactly as it’s meant to be. 

But that only lasts for a few moments, until Victor glances at his watch.

“Oh shit, it’s really late. Do you want me to take you home?” Victor asks as his eyes widen instantly.

“Not really,” Benji says as he burrows into Victor’s side. 

Victor sighs, and his arm tightens around Benji’s shoulder. “I guess I can just take a sick day tomorrow. The last time I went into school hungover my students all roasted me. I’d rather spare myself the wrath of being bullied by high schoolers,” Victor says, face heating up. 

Benji laughs, a warm, hearty sound that vibrates through Victor’s bones. He knows he’ll never tire of it. He strokes Benji’s hair once more before pressing a kiss to his crown.

“You know… I just realized something,” Benji says in that peaceful voice of his, tilting his head up to meet Victor’s gaze.

“What?” 

“The whole time I’ve been here, I haven’t thought of Derek at all.”

“Oh,” Victor says, his body melting at this realization. 

“I mean, you’ve shown me so much more respect than he ever did and I’m starting to realize that I deserved so much better. _You_ are so much better. I’ve never met someone who’s so thoughtful and kind and overall such a wonderful, genuine person. Victor… I’m so lucky to have met you.”

Leaning up, Benji connects their lips again, cupping Victor’s face as the other draws him closer, arms snaking around his back. 

“I’m lucky to have met you, too, Benji,” Victor says, peering up at him in the dim light and seeing the way Benji’s eyes look more brown than gold but loving them all the same. 

They stay like that for a long moment, saying with a gaze more than their words could ever express, until the bed shakes and Pancake appears, settling between Victor and Benji and rolling into a little ball, purring contentedly. 

“The fact that Pancake loves you tells me everything I need to know,” Victor says, interrupting their comfortable silence. 

“I’m honestly feeling so blessed right now,” Benji says with a chuckle as he reaches out to pat Pancake on the head, eyes still closed. 

“She’s usually pretty guarded so the fact that you were able to endear her so quickly is really special. It’s like she can tell you have a good heart.”

Benji sniffles, rubbing his eyes, and Victor glances down, eyebrow raised. “Are you okay? You’re not allergic, are you?”

“No, I just… that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Benji says, voice watery. “I’m fine, I just… I think I feel comfortable letting it out around you and not being afraid to just feel my feelings, you know?”

Victor can feel the sting at the corners of his eyes, too, and he passes his forearm over across his face. “I wonder if this is from the wine because now I’m crying, too,” he says with a giggle.

“This is definitely the most emotional but also the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Me, too,” Victor says, wiping both his and Benji’s faces. “We should probably get some sleep, though. How do you feel about pancakes for breakfast?”

“I thought I told you I’m vegetarian,” Benji teases.

With a final exasperated gaze, Victor shuts off the light. They bury themselves under the covers, breathing out of sync, until they fall into a harmonic rhythm as they drift off in each other’s arms. 

When the next day arrives and Victor sees the way the sun blankets Benji in its radiance, he knows--he can feel it somewhere deep in his core, as if the universe itself had willed it--that they’d made the right choice. And when Benji awakens, peering up at him through eyes the color of life, Victor feels more certain than ever before that they were meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, thanks for tuning in for this story and for reading and supporting. Hope you enjoyed this story because it was a fun time for me to write. I will also say that I appreciate ghosthoney on tiktok for his iconic line "You're so tense, like a little clam" because I felt a bit personally attacked and also thought it would fit Victor because he is basically having a panic attack every episode. Anyway, I especially love Pancake, and if the Salazars don't get a cat and name her Pancake in S2 I'm gonna be a little but Upset ngl. Anyway, I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this and 1 comment/kudo = 1 Venji kiss and having a nice time!! Thanks again!


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